The Bozeman weekly chronicle. (Bozeman, Mont.) 1883-1889, 1887-07-06

III Is 100 late, he said. 1T wOulu not
undo the wrong must have needed the
discipline. shall soon know why 1t was
permitted"
A reaction was coming. She gave him
draught from n goblet on the table AMI
his eyes closed wearily. His lips moved.
She bent her head to listen to the words
he uttered.
Gods furnace flame around me quivers,
His breath upon the fire doth blow"
he wns repeating with slow, deep emphasis
on the words. Then he slept.
She sat and watched him. His mind
seemed to wander back to the days when
he was tho idol Of his people. Fragments
of hymns and sublime prophecies came to
his lips. Again he was the minister Of
God, standing at the altar, distributing
the mystical emblems of Christ's DEATH
Again his hands were in benediction and
his lips moved in the words, MAY the
peace of God, which passeth understand
ing, keep YOU"
Then change came. He was living
over the dark hours Of his agony. The
veins stood out upon his forehead. His
head moved from side to side In mortal
anguish. His mighty frame shook with
the inner tempest. Again he was writh-
ing under the blow dealt him by the man
whom he had once trusted, but who had
been dominated by the demon Of jealous
hatred, who had sworn to overthrow his
powerful rival and who had all too surely
succeeded. Again he stood in the pitiless
noouduy light Of court Of law, with the
whole world as spectators. Again he
knelt under the skies and cried: "My
God, why hast Thou forsaken mef''
But his face did not mirror more terri
BILE agony than did that Of the woman
who bent over him, and with trembling
hand wiped the drops from his forehead.
He awoke and looked up into her face.
"You suffer with me-" he said, gently
II may come to you and help you to be
strong after am free. Are they not all
ministering spirits'" His utterance seemed
less clear. I'll have had my last hour
Of earthly agony" he said.
And now a strange awe crept over the
woman as she sat and watched the noble
face, for by the mystical change that
overshadowed it she knew that Presence
had entered the room to claim his own,
not as the King Of Terrors, but a. an ali
powerful deliverer, bringing to this long
tried spirit the crown Of Immortality. His
face shone with the reflection Of the COM
ing dawn, his ears caught new, faint har-
monies he turned his eyes upon Emily
with last sweet smile, and without one
struggle his soul was free,
The news Of the death Of the great
preacher, whose sun had set In eclipse,
had scarcely flashed over the wires before
another strange piece Of intelligence fol-
lowed.
Sydney Fowler, who a month ago had
commenced lecturing tour through the
west, had been found in his room at
popular hotel with pistol shot through
his brain. On the table were number
Of closely written pages Of confession. He
had plotted the downfall of Gregory Ban.
croft because he was jealous of his sue
cesses and honors, because he had out
stripped him in the race which they had
begun together. The news Of his death
had overwhelmed him with remorse. He
now confessed the whole fiendish plot, the
confession Of love he had forced from his
wife and her signature to the statement
lie had written, while he knew and be-
lieveb in the unspotted integrity Of Greg
| Ory Bancroft. Emily was forestalled. No
need now Of her confession, which at best
would only have unsettled, not convinced,
the world.
Did the grand, sorely tried soul not
know, did he not hear from the morning
land Of spirits, the overwhelming voice Of
sympathy and sorrow and Indignation
that thrilled and throbbed around the
world' Did he not rejoice that his name
was to be accounted blameless Of the sin
laid to his charge, that history would
record him martyr, that offerings Of
flowers, lavish and costly, were heaped
upon HIS re.ting place in the city Of the
dead, daily renewed, daily watered with
tears from bleeding hearts, reaching out
with dumb longing to kneel at his feet
and implore his pardon for the injustice
meted to him in thought and wordi
Did he sometimes come to the sad faced
woman who knelt with folded hands
nightly beside his grave, she to whom 1t
was appointed to live on and bear the bur,
den Of her sin, to watch and wait and
suffer and hope for the ends
All, who shall solve for us the riddle Of
this great mystery of pains-Isabel Holmes
In New York Mercury